


Underneath The Lies

by xantissa



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is a secret agent for the FBI gathering evidence against the mob. Remy is a spy hired by gangsters to become Logan's lover and spy on him. However, things go a little different than planned. There is not much action, just romance. Well kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All my X-men stories are among the first ever written in English and the first ever posted online. Written around 1999 -2005. The standard of writting is not what it could be but no author has hatched perfectly formed. Still, someone might find it worth a look.

Chapter 1

Logan POV

The weather was fucking terrible. It was raining the whole week and all Logan wanted right now was to finally go to sleep and rest. He'd been working without rest on the Essex case, and he had had enough.

He parked his car in front of the old, rusty building and cursed the rain once more when cold streams of water ran behind his collar. He straightened his leather jacket and jogged to the building. He lived on the fourth floor – last one. He liked this place. Remote from other people, situated among warehouses.

Logan could already smell him on the second floor. The slightly spicy, sad scent startled him because he NEVER had visitors. Hell, hardly anyone KNEW where he lived. At first he couldn't classify the scent. It took him a few moments to realize that he knew it.

He’d seen the young man, Remy or something like it, once or twice. His coworkers sometimes paid him for info. The gossip said the kid was a master in finding useful info. But Logan never met him,never knew him personally. Still he remembered his scent…

Finally, reaching the fourth floor he saw him. A pitiful bundle of arms and soaked clothes curled on his doorstep.

He approached him slowly, silently. His mutant hearing allowing him to hear the even breathing. The kid was obviously asleep.

Not knowing what came over him, he stared at the young man.

Shoulder length auburn hair now dirty and wet was escaping the loose ponytail. Sharp cheekbones were highlighted by the blue light on outside of the door. The obligatory trench coat didn't seem to protect the soaked kid from the cold. His arms were tightly wrapped around himself. The ever present sunglasses hid his eyes. Logan couldn't remember ever seeing the kid's eyes.

Logan's hazel eyes returned to the beautiful, almost innocent face. The faint trace of stubble made the boy to look more masculine. Logan remembered the boy was taller than him, but right now he looked so skinny and vulnerable that he reminded him of a child.

One cheek was darker, probably a not so old bruise. Logan couldn't imagine why he was here. Nor could he decide what to do.

His dilemma was resolved when the boy woke up. He stirred, his breathing changed its rhythm and suddenly he raised his head.

"What are you doing here?" Logan asked, his voice as usual gruff and unpleasant.

The kid swallowed and then answered.

"Remy needed a safe place to hide. No one knows where you live… and people, dey usually afraid of you, so Remy came here."

There was sadness and despair Logan could easily smell on the younger man. Now, when he moved the bandage on one slender wrist was also easily seen.

Logan stood in the entrance to the bathroom and watched the Cajun. He still hadn't figured out how the hell the kid got him to agree to him staying here.

Gambit slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off. He seemed to not notice Logan observing him, but Logan knew better. He had caught the change in the kid's breathing. Still, he watched the muscles of those long arms rippling when he was undressing. Still the kid proceeded to undress…

There was something almost hypnotizing in the thief taking off one piece of clothing at a time.

He was beautifully built. His long slender, elegant body was definitely eye-catching.

The Cajun washed his hands and then unbuttoned his Levi's. There was a loud /slump/ when the wet material hit the floor. Remy was now standing only in his briefs and started to slowly unwrap the bandage from his left wrist. Never once did he take his glasses off.

"Why are you wearing glasses?"

Remy stilled, his head bent, completely focused on his wrist. Logan KNEW he wouldn't get an answer. The kid was like an oyster – kept his mouth shut. He refused to explain to Logan just exactly WHY was he sleeping on his doorstep. He merely stared at him in silence, smelling of fear, loneliness and despair.

Logan just couldn't stand it. So he opened the door and let the kid stay.

Right now he wanted to see his eyes. Maybe they would tell him something? That was what he told himself, what he NEEDED to believe. It had nothing to do with the strange need to see his eyes, to make sure they were as beautiful as the kid was.

Without thinking about his actions he stepped into the silent bathroom and standing next to the almost naked kid, he reached out a hand to his face and slowly grabbed the glasses. He froze for a second to make sure Remy wouldn't do anything to stop him and took them off.

He gasped, staring at the red on black eyes. They were the most extraordinary and beautiful thing he ever saw. When those orbs of fire locked with his hazel gaze a slight shiver ran through him.

There was confusion and vulnerability… as well as a strange, almost alien sensual expression. His nose twitched at the wave of pheromones rolling off the kid. He didn't need to look to be able to tell that the thief had a major hard on and that it was for HIM.

Logan started to withdraw his still raised hand and then Remy moved. A small twist of his neck, bending of that pretty head and suddenly Logan felt the cold, slightly wet lips brushing the inside of his wrist. He shivered once more and for a brief moment had the urge to grab the kid's head and draw him into a kiss. He ached to taste the soft moist lips, now partly opened.

The short moment was stretched to the whole of eternity. Both men standing in the middle of the silent, barely lit bathroom. Logan's arm frozen in place and that incredible mouth touching it. Lightly enough, so there was nothing REAL, nothing INSISTENT but still there was an ocean of possibilities.

And Logan's need. He was never into men. He never had a male lover, only women. It was strange for him to react so STRONG to a… boy.

The only thing he was able to hear was Remy's shallow breathing and the dripping of the faucet.

"You should take a shower. You can use these clothes." Logan said abruptly, jerking away from the strange moment. He dropped the bundle of clothes he was holding and left the bathroom. He needed time to get his head straight and fresh air. The pheromones coming off the kid were playing havoc with his senses.

* * *

It had been three days. Three days of constantly watching the beautiful, silent thief living now in his apartment and BEING watched by the kid.

That first situation in the bathroom – that could be just an effect of stress or whatever the hell had happened that day. But the Cajun didn't stop there.

Logan remembered one morning. He always slept nude and wasn't used to sharing his place with someone else. So when he woke up he went to the bathroom to take a hot shower and then returned to the bedroom and started to dress.

After a while he caught the scent of pheromones. He raised his head and in the mirror he saw red on black eyes watching him. They locked their gazes for a long moment. Then the thief lowered his gaze looking him up and down as if admiring every rippling muscle in Logan's backside. Then, ever so slowly, the fiery gaze returned to his eyes.

Remy was wearing only the sweat pants Logan had lent him. The material was old and faded and obviously too big for him. The pants hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. The face was as usual strikingly handsome and Logan wondered how the hell the kid managed to look that good when he hadn't been sleeping?

Logan knew it for sure, because his hearing allowed him to catch the soft, terrified whispers and moans coming from the guest bedroom. As well as the choked scream and the endless pacing. The Cajun woke up after two or three hours of fitful sleep and then spent the rest of the night pacing or thrashing on the bed. Still, he looked beautiful in the morning.

Now, when he was staring at Logan with those strange, yet very sensual eyes he felt a sudden rush of arousal. The scent coming off the thief changed when he saw Logan's hardening member in the mirror.

He came on silent feet and stood mere inches from Logan's spine. He was so close that Logan could easily hear the thief's heartbeat and feel his body heat.

After what seemed an eternity Remy moved his hand. Slowly, almost tentatively he reached out. Logan felt the lightest touch on the base of his spine. The fingers were soft, delicate, and slightly cold like the fingers of a female. Or a thief.

He could smell the arousal and fear. He wondered why the kid was so intent on seducing him, because that was what he was doing, when he was still a little afraid of him.

Remy stroked his spine in one long movement, from the base of his spine to his high sensitive neck and back down. He couldn't restrain a shudder and saw a slow, sexy smile curve the boy's sensual lips. He moved his head so that long, silky bangs fell on his face.

Slowly, still touching Logan's body, he moved until he was in front of Logan. His hand now touching the curly hair on his chest. He looked into the bewildered hazel eyes and slowly let his hand slide down to the now fully erect member.

"Don't…" croaked Logan. His head was spinning, tormented by two desires; One to push the thief away. He wasn't gay! He wasn't interested in men! The second was to stand still and watch that beautiful creature, watch what he would do?

"Shh… cher, let Remy help… Let Remy take care of dis…" He whispered softly while touching the burning, thick cock, with only his fingertips.

"Why?" asked Logan, his voice strangled.

Red on black eyes flickered to his once more.

"Y' helped Remy… let Remy help y'," He whispered softly.

Before Logan had even the time to think, the thief gracefully sank to his knees. Long careful fingers wrapped around his length and squeezing lightly. He couldn't restrain a moan that tore its way out of his chest.

Mere seconds later he felt hot, moist breath touch the raging head. A shudder came through him and then, suddenly he was encased in that hot mouth. All his brain cells fled his mind when tongue touched his heated skin. Licking along the slit, teasing the swelled veins. Almost instinctively he reached out to grab something, to balance himself. He barely registered the soft, auburn hair under his fingers. He caught two fistfuls of the Cajun's hair as he slowly swallowed all of his length, encasing it in the heat and wetness that was driving him out of his mind. He felt the tongue massaging the sensitive underside and the sheer pleasure of it caused him to buck. Surprisingly, Remy didn't choke. He merely relaxed his throat allowing Logan to fuck his mouth, all the time swallowing around his hard cock.

It was too much to bear and he felt his muscles tense and that hot feeling spreading from the base of his spine. His vision darkened and then he shot his entire load into that STILL swallowing throat.

He shook in the spasms of a powerful and all too sudden orgasm while Remy proceeded to milk his cock for the last drop. When he finally came to his senses he eased the death grip on the thief's hair and let him free.

The boy backed off slightly, just enough to let Logan's now softening cock free. He was still on his knees not making any move to get up. Logan noticed just how beautiful his spine was flexed in that position. Then the kid looked up, long, incredibly soft, auburn bangs partially hiding his face and just a glimpse of those alien red on black eyes staring up at him.

Something deep in those hot orbs, deep sensual… something, told Logan that if he surrendered there would be much, much more. The thief was obviously VERY experienced. The way he sucked his cock made him almost loose his mind with pleasure.

Just as suddenly as they disappeared earlier, his senses returned. A man had just given him head for God's sake! Panic rising in his throat he broke the eye contact and backed off.

He stumbled and in near panic reached for his clothes then fled the room, leaving the confused kid behind.

That happened the previous night. Logan had left the flat and returned only now. It was way after two o'clock and he was dead tired. He buried himself in work trying not to think about what happened in his bedroom.

He thought the kid would be asleep but he never really was. Only now Logan realized that Remy was NEVER asleep. At least he had never seen him REALLY sleeping.

He made his way to the kitchen, taking his old jacket out on the way. He wanted to grab something to eat, take a shower and go to bed.

His nose told him that the kid was in the kitchen. He paused at the entrance not sure what to do. He was ashamed of what had happened. Ashamed of letting the boy go down on his knees in front of him and suck him off. He was also ashamed of his cowardice, his inability to look the boy in the eyes.

Now his head was much clearer and he decided it was time to face him. He slowly entered the kitchen only to see Remy dressed in the all too familiar sweat pants and few sizes too big tee shirt, standing at the counter slicing bread.

"Allo, Logan," the thief greeted him softly. "Remy dink y' might be hungry, so he decided to make y' some sandwiches while y' go shower."

Logan wanted to say something, to mention the previous night but couldn't stand against such a temptation and fled the kitchen to take a shower, never noticing a sly smile curving the thief's lips.

Twenty minutes later he came back, dressed in fresh clothes, and spotted the plate of sandwiches before he saw Remy. The man was finishing washing the dishes. He dried his hands and moved to make a place for Logan. While passing him, he pushed his buttocks so that they were firmly pressed against the heavier man's crotch.

It lasted only for a brief moment but still left Logan wondering about the FEEL of those two hard globes pressed so snugly against his flesh. Just how it would feel like to touch them without all that clothing and… He quickly shook his mind of such thoughts and looked after the retreating thief.

"Remy," He called out.

The thief stopped and slowly turned around. He looked Logan straight in the eye and in that stare was a hidden uncertainty.

"Ya don't have to… offer yourself. I ain't gonna throw you out. I already said ya can stay here."

The boy was looking incredibly young and tempting at the same time.

"Merci beaucoup," the Cajun said softly, after an endless moment of staring into his eyes as if seeking an answer. "But dat not the only reason," he said and then left.

* * *

One day later, Logan was lying in his bed listening to strangled cries from the other room and wondered why the hell he couldn't forget he ever heard them. Today, he finally admitted to himself that the constant pressure that Remy put on him, his sometimes subtle, sometimes not, attempts to seduce him had some effects after all. When he was jerking off in the shower, he caught himself imagining that lean, slender body and auburn hair at his feet, sucking him just perfectly.

"Non!" A second cry and Logan realized that it must have been more than a simple bad dream. The fear in the rich Cajun voice made him get up and walk to the other bedroom.

Carefully he peered into the dark interior. The sheets were all tangled up and Remy was lying on the edge of the bed, curled into a fetal position and breathing hard. He smelled bad – of fear and despair.

Logan stepped into the smaller bedroom and walked to the bed.

"Remy," he called softly.

The curled form on the bed shook violently and the stench of fear was almost suffocating. Remy was obviously very scared and needed help.

Logan finally reached out a hand and touched the boy's shoulder. He flinched at first but when Logan continued to talk to him soothing nonsense, he calmed a little and moved INTO the touch.

There was nothing sexual in the movement. The Cajun just needed some tenderness and comfort. Seeing that physical contact was helping, Logan carefully moved onto the bed and pulled the Cajun into an embrace. Still the young man refused to uncurl from the protective, fetal position.

Slowly he calmed, the nightmare obviously easing its hold on Remy and he woke up. Logan could easily see that he was startled to see Logan in his bed, holding him, comforting. Red on black eyes wide and not completely cleared of the sleep.

"Logan?" he croaked, the exhaustion now clearly visible on his face.

"Sleep. I'll stay with you," Logan said in a low, gentle voice that was so unlike him. He also felt strange, unsure of himself. He still didn't know what he was doing in that bed with a young, attractive man that had been trying to seduce him for the past week. His nose twitched while he tasted the air. Only now did he realize that he was doing it because he wanted to SMELL the Cajun.

So very slowly and hesitantly the kid stretched along Logan's body and then, as if testing his chances, Remy tried to snuggle closer. The stocky Canadian sighed and opened his arms in silent invitation. In less than a second, the kid was all but wrapped around him like ivy. Long, lean legs and arms tangled with thicker, wirier ones.

Logan lay in silence for a long time listening to even, soft breathing tickling his neck with hot, misty puffs of air and wondered how the hell it had all started. How could he have fallen for him? He had never been attracted to a man before… he unconsciously stroked the thief's bare back and decided to get some sleep as well.

* * *

Logan was sitting in the dark room, resting comfortably in the old armchair and kept a glass full of whiskey in his hand. He was near closing the Essex case and couldn't free his mind from considering all the aspects that could have gone wrong, facts that were left unexposed, evidence wrongly cataloged, and procedural mistakes. He knew that if he made a mistake, no matter how small, Essex’s lawyers would probably find it and use it to make a rope they would hang him with.

He sighed and took a long swig of the alcohol. There was one thing that surely could distract him. The thief. It was already nine days since he’d come to live at the apartment and the whole time Logan hadn't asked what had him scared so much. Nor did he ask about the nightmares. Ever since that night when he finally broke and went to ease the kid's nightmares he made sure he left before Remy woke up and returned late in the night. However, the Cajun always waited for him, preparing dinner for him, watching him a little too closely and using every occasion to press that firm round ass of his into Logan's body.

Now he couldn't stop wondering about the feel of it, the lean, well-sculptured body. Just how would it be to really taste him?

A sudden whiff of scent caused him to turn his head. Right there, partly hidden in shadows stood Remy. He was wearing his Levis and Logan's tee shirt. He could actually SMELL their mixed scents and it was making him so hard, it was almost painful. Today however, something was different. The kid smelled different. Stronger. There was almost no fear in him now and Logan shivered thinking that probably this was the day. Today it would happen.

Chapter 2

Remy POV

He stood in the doorway, deep in the shadows that were natural to him and was perfectly aware that Logan could easily see him. He knew all about the other man's mutation. After all, before taking the assignment he’d gathered a pretty thick file about the mysterious Canadian. 

He usually didn't work for the mob, but Mr. Essex had information that Remy wasn't able to gather himself, information that he was desperate to gain. So he decided to seduce Logan. Getting into his house was easier than he’d first suspected. It occurred to him that the Canadian was more prone to his Charm than other people. 

Remy knew he couldn't use much of it. If he had wanted to, he could have dragged Logan to bed the first night but it would be nothing different than rape, because people struck with his Charm didn't really have any choice.

Things however, went a little different. Logan was much more complicated than he’d thought at first. All of his sources confirmed that he was an animalistic, feral man. That was why Remy designed his character so that he could put the most pressure on the strong man. Appearing weak, scared, and needing protection was the perfect way to press Logan. 

Soon, he felt obligated to help Remy. The more or less subtle attempts at seducing him were however, very haphazard. Remy couldn't be sure how he would react to another man touching him. 

His empathy told him what Logan felt since their first encounter, the reluctant attraction and confusion. And it wasn't only his Charm. It was between them. Attraction. Lust. Desire. He thought they could have had sex a lot earlier. He planned on seducing Logan that morning in his bedroom when he gave him a blowjob, but things went sideways.

Feeling Logan's emotions – want and confusion fear and anger… Remy couldn't use his charm on him. Couldn't push him more. So he offered him release instead.

What surprised Remy was his own lust. He actually wanted the older man. The tenderness Logan showed him was also surprising. He never planned on having nightmares or pretended it. They were real and Logan's silent comfort was more than anyone had given him in years. 

While waiting for Logan, doing something to ease his stress he’d almost forgotten why he was there.

He had searched the entire flat except the master bedroom. He knew Logan would smell him there. He gathered information that Logan wasn't probably aware he left. After all he was a master thief and a spy. 

He knew that the only way to search Logan's bedroom would be to finally spend a night there. But, to tell the truth, he wasn't thinking about it at all.

Logan's heavily muscled body stretched lazily in the armchair was sending shivers down his spine. All that power, unyielding strength, loyalty and passion caught in such a powerful package caused butterflies to fill Remy's stomach. He licked his lips in anticipation. For eight days he wondered how it would be to surrender to such a hard, rough man. Be taken by him? 

He felt the sudden change in Logan's mood and KNEW what it meant. Logan had finally stopped fighting. Remy changed his position. He knew he looked deceivingly relaxed. 

Slowly, he started approaching Logan. The tension between them so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Remy found those feral hazel eyes and locked his gaze with the Wolverine. Using every ounce of his grace, he crossed the room. Logan's eyes left his and started roaming around his body. His hands were clenched, nostrils flared, but he didn't move. Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Remy stopped in front of a carefully watching Logan.

His empathy allowed him to pick up Logan's quickly rising arousal as well as a certain wariness that bordered with aggression. But eventually, with Logan, almost every emotion did. He waited until the other man's eyes returned to him and then leant forward; supporting himself on the chair's arm rests, until their faces were an inch apart.

"Cut it out. I ain't in the mood fer your games, Remy," Logan said in a harsh voice, but his eyes were trailing over the lean but muscled figure so close to him.

"Relax Cher… Remy knows what he doing…" He all but purred and ran his gaze openly down Logan's chest, stomach and down to the crotch that already started to show signs of interest. "Let Remy take care of y'," whispered the thief huskily as he leaned one more inch closer.

"Ya don't have to do this," Logan said flippantly, taking another swig of his drink, pretending the closeness of the young man didn't affect him. Remy only smiled slightly, corners of his mouth turning up, which gave him a more feline appearance. He could easily FEEL Logan straining to control himself, to pretend there was nothing between them.

Remy shivered when Logan suddenly raised his gaze to meet his. His eyes no longer hazel, more like silver, bright and hard, expression serious. Remy felt the concern rolling off Logan in waves. 

"Ya don't have to be my bitch to be sure I won't throw you out. I said ya can stay, and I mean it."

Remy averted his eyes, not sure he would be able to stand looking Logan straight in the eye and lie. He shivered a little. He felt bad about deceiving Logan. He never meant to hurt him because what he was going to do would hurt the man. When he first came here he considered Logan one of those selfish, aggressive agents so full of themselves that they couldn't see the truth even if it bit them right on the ass.

But Logan was different. He was sympathetic and good at heart. From what Remy noticed he deduced that Logan strongly believed in honor and loyalty. And Remy was playing him. Pushing just the right buttons. Now it had gone too far to back off. Remy could only continue. 

He was afraid that Logan would read the truth from his eyes, so he reached for the glass Logan was still holding and took it from him. He took a deep swig, emptying the glass and giving Logan a good view of his bared throat. He knew that this act of submission would speak to the animal side of the older man.

Carefully, he moved closer and slid slowly forward settling himself on Logan's lap. Still supported on the arms of the chair he bent his head and licked a wet trial from the base of the Canadian's neck to the tip of his ear. 

He felt him shiver and grinned, slowly tracing a path to his lips. He stopped just millimeters from the lips, brushing them with his warm breath and then bent to again lick the side of that powerfully muscled neck. Smelling him and tasting the salty skin. His own arousal was more than obvious.

Logan moaned, hands running down Remy's sides and grabbing onto his hips, pulling him in hard and grinding up. Remy rolled his hips back, rubbing their clothed erections together, a hand going up to Logan's jaw before he pressed their lips together hard, both of them moaning into the kiss. 

Teeth clashed a little, lips moving firmly against each other as neither of them backed down. Remy could tell Logan was surprised by his aggressiveness but when his body was on fire from lust, he had difficulties playing the submissive, weak boy Logan knew.

Their mouths opened to each other and Remy sucked in the tip of Logan's tongue, rolling his hips forward again before pulling away. 

"Fuck…Remy," Logan grunted out, head resting back against the chair.

"Oui. Dat's de idea Cher," answered the thief. Soon after he felt Logan shake with suppressed laughter.

"Yer a tease. Who would have thought…" 

Remy winced internally. Merde! He could feel Logan's confusion and he realized he’d played out of character, but it was too late. He could either go back to the previous pattern or go with the flow. With a little luck, Logan would think the change was due to the sex.

Sliding his hands into thick, wiry hair, he pulled Logan's head to him roughly and kissed him hard again. He was rewarded with moan and a DEFINITELY hard erection pressing into his thigh.

Remy smiled internally at the result of his actions, but seconds later he yelped helplessly when he felt strong, rough hands grip him by the waist and haul him off Logan's lap. He opened his eyes to see Logan standing in front of him, still gripping his waist, and devouring him with his eyes. Dilated pupils seemed to completely hide the hazel irises and Remy once again wondered why Logan never seemed fazed by staring into his red on black eyes?

The older man let go of his waist and grabbed his wrist. There was a light tug. Not entirely certain, but willing to take the lead, Logan pulled him in the direction of the bedroom.

Suddenly, Remy was in the place and he couldn't stop himself from looking at the large bed with black bed linen. It was so final.

The light touch of cold fingers to his neck surprised him and he jumped a little. He was taken aback by his nervousness. It wasn't like it was the first time he was supposed to fuck a man. Or submit to one. But this time everything was different.

It was kind of scary how fast Logan seemed to take the lead. For all Remy knew, Logan had never been attracted to a man, and now, suddenly he was completely dominating him.

Soon he felt light, wet kisses on his neck. A hand that pushed the loose, long hair to the side was now resting pressed firmly to the base of his neck and lips were brushing his highly sensitive skin. Logan stood behind him and the inability to see him was affecting Remy more than he wanted to admit. There was a slight fear. He hated men who were standing behind him- to many memories, but now it was different. He felt unsure but he was also highly turned on.

He allowed his hand to slide down to the pocket of his pants and took the small tube of lube out. Then tossed it to the bed. He felt Logan behind him tense for a brief moment and then Logan bit him HARD in the shoulder and pressed his body flat against his back. Although Logan was shorter than Remy, his considerable erection was pressing right into his buttocks. The Canadians other hand reached around him and he felt it stroking his chest lightly and then dropping down to his already hard erection and press THERE – hard. Simultaneously, the Canadian's hips pushed forward so that Remy was trapped between his hand and his unyielding, hard body. He whimpered quietly and FELT what that sound had done to his lover.

Suddenly, without any warning, Logan stepped back. The sudden withdrawal of his body heat left Remy shivering.

"Logan?"

The older man was standing a few feet away, his back against the wall, muscular arms folded on his broad chest. His stance was deceptively oblivious, but his eyes gave him away. The still fiery gaze and dilated pupils were watching him with feral intensity.

"Undress," came the soft, yet strong demand. Remy felt a shiver run down his spine.

For a long moment he just stood there, immobile, watching Logan watching him. He found it funny, that it was he who was insecure. He once again wondered just who was seducing WHO here?

"I wanna watch," Logan said in a strange, dark voice, as if sensing Remy's hesitation. 

Slowly and carefully Remy took the tee shirt off, making sure that all of his muscles moved nicely during the action. Instantly, his empathy picked up the reaction.

He caressed his stomach lightly letting his hand slowly and sensually drop. He touched the waistband of his pants and froze for a moment seeking Logan's eyes with his, and only when their gazes were locked, did he push the soft fabric down.

He felt the other mans eyes darting up and down his now completely naked body. Even without his empathy, he could clearly see what the reaction was. Suddenly, Logan's gaze fixed somewhere behind him.

"Prepare yourself," Logan said, his voice no longer calm.

Slowly, Remy looked around and noticed the small tube Logan was looking at. Shivering a little, he sat on the bed and took it. Then he looked back into the fiery hazel eyes. He felt those eyes watching him as he spread his long, lean body on the black sheets.

Lightly, he touched his chest, stroking the hardened pectorals and then allowed his hands to ghost lower and lower. He touched his own straining erection and wrapped his hand around it. Slowly he started pumping it, moaning softly. His empathy went haywire when he felt all of Logan's lust and desire and admiration.

So very slowly he spread his legs just enough to give Logan a good view of his actions and then he squeezed a healthy portion of cool gel onto his palm. Closing his eyes, he reached between his legs and touched his puckered opening. He hissed a little when the cool gel touched his sensitive area but continued to imagine Logan touching him there, watching him.

He allowed his empathy to leak a little more. His insecurity had significantly lessened. He was a very confidant lover. He had a lot of experience and KNEW he was physically attractive.

Besides, his empathy told him that the Canadian was already on the edge of his self-control. His show of obliviousness was nothing more than an attempt to spice things up a little more.

Remy opened his eyes and locked his red gaze with the hazel one and then pushed one long finger inside his puckered hole. He couldn't restrain a low, helpless moan when he felt his finger slide past the tight ring of muscles. Remy liked women the same as men so his body was used to an intruder in that particular place. He felt the iron grip of his rectum on his finger ease and started pushing it deeper. Logan's eyes were glued to his moving hand and his breathing became loud and erratic.

He established a slow, tormenting rhythm of pushing the slick finger inside and out.

Suddenly, he heard a low growl and the next thing he knew the bed was dipping and a strong, rough hand holding his wrist.

He opened his eyes only to see hazel ones filled with such passion that his breath caught. Remy felt Logan slowly pulling his hand out and away. He bit his lip feeling his finger leave the hot cavern of his body. He watched as Logan froze, still holding his wrist. His nostrils flared and Remy knew he was testing the air, SMELLING him. The knowledge of that fact made it all the more arousing.

Then Logan slowly guided his arm so that it was resting flat on he pillow, inches beside his head. Then he felt Logan doing the same with his other arm. All the time he was staring right into his eyes. When both his arms were pinned to the pillow above his head, Logan growled softly.

"Don't move."

Remy felt his wrists being released but had no intention of moving. It felt surprisingly good to submit to the stronger man, allow himself to be dominated. Although Logan's words were harsh, his hands were surprisingly gentle when they touched the smooth skin of his inner thigh. The time seemed to stretch endlessly while Logan caressed his legs tenderly. Remy felt himself comply with the gentle demand and spread his legs further.

Logan continued to softly stroke his thighs from knee to hips, letting his fingers ghost over the heated, sensitive skin but he avoided the most demanding part of his body.

Finally, one of the rough hands came to rest on his straining erection and he moaned gratefully. Remy couldn't stop himself and bucked his hips, desperate for better stimulation. Logan however was gripping the erect member so lightly hat his actions brought him nothing except more frustration.

"Please…" he whispered.

Finally, the grip on his erection tightened and Logan slowly pumped. Remy closed his eyes and arched his back off the bed. His muscles rippled and stomach tensed while his arms were still on the pillow above his head.

Somewhere, between the sensations Remy's empathy picked up Logan's reaction and he repeated the movement glad that he was turning Logan on without actually touching him.

Then he felt a light, tentative touch between his buttocks. Remy opened his eyes only to see Logan staring at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Once again he felt those fingers ghosting over his puckered opening but they weren't putting any pressure on it. His breath quickened. He wanted them inside, wanted something inside! Anything to make him feel full. It took him a moment to realize that for some reason Logan was afraid of pushing his fingers in. Surely he was prepared enough!

"Please… in!" he begged shamelessly. All he wanted right now was to feel something inside.

"I…” Logan started then broke off, " I don't wanna… hurt ya."

Looking into those hazel eyes Remy understood that Logan wasn't as sure of himself as he had seemed before. Slowly, Remy reached out his right hand and touched the tense cheek. Slowly, he let his fingertips feel the warm skin, furry brows and jaw line with the dark shadow of new stubble. 

His fingers flickered lightly above the surprisingly soft lips and then lowered his hand so that it was he who was holding Logan's wrist. Slowly, gazing straight into hazel eyes he directed Logan's two fingers at his opening and pushed, showing Logan that he wanted this, NEEDED this.

The surprise and awe in Logan's eyes as his fingers slid behind the guardian ring of muscles was intoxicating. Remy couldn't tear his gaze off the older man. Then, without further coaxing, Logan started moving his fingers in and out, all the time being as gentle as possible.

Something stung in his eyes at the concern and genuine care coming off Logan. He blinked and moved his hand back to the pillow above his head. He felt Logan's fingers push inside and out of him, stretching him, preparing for something much bigger and could feel Logan’s eyes roaming back and forth over his reclining form.

Suddenly, Logan stopped just enough to catch his attention. When their gazes crossed, Logan looked at the lube beside him. Remy understood and wasting no time, reached for the tube and squeezed lube onto his palm. Then he reached between their bodies and coated Logan's cock with a thick layer. The Canadian was… well endowed. It would be a snug fit but Remy couldn't wait. He was already nearing his release only from the preparations. 

When he was done, he felt Logan's hands pushing him flat on the bed. Their fingers entwined and Logan lowered himself, supporting his weight on powerfully muscled arms and his lips met Remy's. 

The kiss was surprisingly soft and sweet at the beginning, causing Remy to feel… loved, cherished and, against his conscience, moved. He felt bad about his betrayal, worse every minute but there was no stopping now. He opened his mouth and sealed his lips to Logan's, desperate for something that would clear his mind from guilt. Soon the kiss became forceful, demanding almost consuming.

Then he felt the tentative thrust, as if Logan was still unsure. He moaned encouragingly and raised his bottom to thrust back, meeting Logan's movement. Suddenly, the head of Logan's cock was inside him. The Canadian stilled, his pupils dilated, breath coming in short gasps. Remy was also panting. Inside him, Logan's member seemed HUGE, stretching him almost painfully, but he liked that combination. Pleasure on the edge of pain. He forced his muscles to relax and then pushed down a little more, impaling himself on the older man.

It was all Logan needed as encouragement. He started pumping his hips, slowly at first not sure about Remy's reaction, but then incrementally faster. Remy was flying high. The feeling of complete fullness and stretch was going straight to his groin. When Logan leaned closer to kiss him again, his straining member pressed against the older man's hard stomach creating enough friction to nearly set Remy off. But he desperately wanted to hold on. The feeling of Logan thrusting into him, his fingers entwined with his own and all that hard, forceful body covering him was the best feeling ever. He couldn't move his hands, could only move his hips to meet each and every thrust. He nearly screamed when Logan hit his prostate. The older man was learning quickly and in no time he aimed his every thrust so that Remy was nearly out of his mind with pleasure. He squeezed the other man's fingers and his body arched convulsing when he came. White heat rippled through him, causing him to moan and thrash under the stocky man, his internal muscles squeezing the incredibly hard shaft inside him.

He was flying so high that it took him a moment to realize that Logan came too. His already softening cock slipped free and he rolled to the side panting heavily, body covered in sweat. Unable to speak, Remy snuggled closed to Logan wanting to be embraced. The Canadian complied and took him into his arms, rolling Remy on top of him.

He knew he was quickly falling asleep to the soft touches and strokes from Logan’s hands. He listened to the slowing heartbeat and allowed his eyes to close. He didn't want to think about tomorrow. The day he would betray this incredible, gentle and caring man.

* * *  
Remy was sitting on the bed in Logan's bedroom and he was staring at the two small discs he’d found hidden under the floor. The hiding place was good, but he was better. He had already checked them. They had all the information he needed. 

He looked at the door. He was wearing the clothes he’d arrived in. He had no other possessions with him. The only thing he would be taking from this place were the two discs that were imprisoning his betrayal. Once again, he wondered if it was worth it. Really worth it?

He sighed and lay on the bed, inhaling their mingled scents still lingering on the sheets. He never felt this way. He wasn't supposed to. It was just a job. It wasn't the first time he’d seduced somebody to gain something. But it was the first time he felt bad about it.

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his sunglasses. Putting them on, he pretended not to feel the terrible heartbreak, the ache deep inside his soul that would probably never heal.

His clever fingers hid the discs and he left the bedroom and then the flat, not looking back. 

Only a single tear slid down his cheek from under the black glass. 

Chapter 3

NO POV

“We thought you should see this, Mr. Logan. This building is suspected to be Essex’s Headquarters. We only recently obtained the warrant to search the place. We know how important your work is…” The detective kept talking while Logan silently followed him. Logan was barely paying attention to him. Even the investigation, work that had taken six months of his life, was unimportant right now. The only thing that he could think about was a certain red haired Cajun that he’d left sleeping in his bed.

He’d never been with another man before and the very idea had never seemed appealing to him. Not even a little bit, but with this incredibly sexy, sensual creature everything seemed to go so smoothly, be so right.

He’d never had such a good night. The pleasure was beyond anything he’d known. And now, when he had a little time to think calmly about things he understood he was in love with Remy. He decided he’d talk to the young man after he got home. He’d force the kid to tell him what made him so scared, what his problems were and he’d help him. Then they’d have a chance for a relationship.

“In this cabinet, we found some papers, but there wasn’t anything important. However, they are still here…”

Logan stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t the look of the room or what the detective was saying. What surprised him was the scent.

The room had been closed for the past week and the scents still lingered in the air. 

Maybe it was his mutant ability to remember scents he’d encountered even if only once. Maybe it was the memory of their intoxicating night fresh in his mind. Maybe it was because he used to associate this particular scent with something sensual. His lover.

The room smelled of Remy. And Essex.

What was the kid doing here? Logan never believed in coincidences. Never. It was too close. Remy in Essex’s home, Remy in his house, Remy avoiding explaining his reasons, Remy trying to seduce him…

Feeling his heart clench he turned around and left the building. He didn’t notice the shouts and surprised stares from the police. He didn’t even notice that he was running to his car. As soon as he got into it he started the engine and put it in gear. 

The road back home was longer than anything in his life. His heart pounded and his mind raced trying in vain to find a reasonable explanation for all this. He refused to think the worst. As soon as he reached the house he jumped out of the car, barely stopping to slam the door closed and run. The fourth floor seemed higher than ever. When he was in front of his door he knew.

There was no one inside. His senses told him right away that Remy had left the flat some time ago. Slowly he entered, still refusing to believe the worst explanation. No. Remy couldn’t have betrayed him like this. But the flat was empty, not even a trace of the young thief. He directed his steps to the bedroom, their mixed scents hit him hard, right in the gut. He nearly fell, the wave of emotions, memories and pain were so strong. His throat tightened painfully, he couldn’t breathe. 

Slowly, as if in a trance he entered the small room and looked around. Everything seemed to be in place. Usually he would be able to trace his movements by scent but the air was filled with the mixed scents of sex and passion. It was overwhelming.

Slowly, almost painfully, Logan sunk to his knees and rolled the carpet back. With shaking fingers he reached to open the secret hiding spot. The click of the lock was like thunder in his ears.His heart was pounding and his vision swam

 

The box was empty.

He wanted to scream, wanted to cry out in pain and anger. Wanted to tear something into pieces, slash and destroy in helpless fury, but all he could do was to stare into the empty proof of betrayal and feel hot, salty tears running down his cheeks. 

He hung his head and sat there, still and immobile, thinking about all the times he should have known, should have seen…

Finally, his shock passed and the pain and heartache was replaced with an equally strong, different emotion.

In a flurry of movement he jumped to his feet and, with a loud SNIKT, he released his claws and started slashing, destroying every single proof of his foolishness, every trace of that false bastard he’d learned to love.

Now, he’d learn to hate.

 

* * *

Remy stood in the small alley, barely aware of the rain pouring from the sky all day. He has been wandering for hours now, his fingers touching and tracing the disks in his pocket. The cold touches of rain were like still-remembered wet lips touching his body, soothing, arousing, cherishing…

He came to a stop in front of a shabby phone booth. The thunder cracked flooding the dirty alley with sharp, white light. But he hardly noticed. The pain and self-disgust was too strong. He wondered just who had he become to betray such a true soul. He put an evil bastard above Logan. Was it worth it?

He shivered. He was cold, SO very cold since he’d taken those damned disks from their hiding place. It seemed as if the two small pieces of plastic drained all the heat from his body.

Before he realized what he was doing, he picked the phone up and dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Essex.” Came the cold, low response.

“LeBeu here,” he said, still idly playing with the disks in his pocket.

“Good. Do you have the disks?”

“Non,” he answered before he realized what he was saying, “Need a lil’ more time.”

There was a long, unnerving silence and finally came an answer.

“Do not fail me boy, you know you will be punished. The information you need … you know that I will give them to you ONLY in exchange for … different ones.”

“Gambit knows.”

Remy swallowed. What the hell was he doing?! He was quickly loosing his chance in favor of some stranger? Was he insane? He should have learned by now that the only person that cared about him was himself. And making Essex an enemy of his was no good at all. 

He closed his eyes and leaned onto the booth’s plastic wall. Stupid Cajun. Very, very stupid…

* * *

Essex put the phone down but still kept watching it as if it had some hidden answers. There was something in LeBeau’s voice that kept him wondering. He didn’t believe the man. He was almost sure that he had the disks. Maybe he wanted to push the price up? But surely he knew that Essex wasn’t the type to play such games.

Still deep in thought he pressed the comm button.

“Mr. Creed? Please come to my office,” he said in deceptively soft tone.

Soon the giant blonde entered his office. Slowly, he measured the brute man in front of him. He didn’t like him. Usually he liked to be surrounded by intelligent, sophisticated men. This one had none of those abilities. He was cruel, brutish, aggressive, probably psychopathic… but also inhumanly strong and had the ability to regenerate. He made a perfect weapon.

 

“Yeah, Boss?”

“There is a person I need you to bring to me. His name is Scott Summers. He is a police agent. A friend of… Wolverine’s.”

Essex knew that those two had a history together and the hate was still very much alive. He saw the completely black eyes narrow and a snarl came from the beast in front of him. Yes. Sabretooth would do anything to hurt Logan. 

“He is also a mutant, quite powerful. He’s capable of shooting laser blasts from his eyes so you can’t allow him to see you.”

“Consider it done.”

Essex leaned back in his leather chair and went back to studying the view outside his window. If everything went according to plan, he would get rid of Logan, Summers and that pitiful thief all at once. 

* * *

Scott Summers was tired. The case he was working on was finally nearing the end and he had to stay longer at work in order to finish things. Now however he couldn’t wait to go back home to his wife. Jean. The love of his life had told him recently that she was pregnant. He felt bad that he had to leave her alone at nights but promised himself that he would change his working hours when the child was born. Family was more important than work.

He stopped the car on the red light and massaged his neck. He was tired. 

Suddenly somebody knocked on the window. It was some homeless man clad in dirty, torn clothes. He was obviously asking for some change. Scott still vividly remembered his own days on the street and lowered the window to give the poor man some money.

He barely had the time to register what happened when something at the side of his neck hurt. He touched it in a strangely slow movement and saw a tranquilizer dart.

Fuck!

He knew he was in trouble. // JEAN!!! // He screamed in his mind, hoping that his wife would receive the telepathic shout before he passed out.

* * *

Logan slammed the bottle down when he heard the intense banging on the door. He was unsuccessfully trying to drown his sorrows in a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and was not happy that somebody interrupted him. 

His flat was a mess. Every part of it had traces of his rage.. Every single thing that had smelled like that traitor had been destroyed. Every single trace of him had been erased. 

Angry he wanted to shout to leave him the fuck alone but then he smelled HER. Jean Summers. His love once. Now wife of his best friend. She smelled of fear and… baby. Curious he opened the door.

There she was in long dark coat, fiery red hair surrounding her beautiful yet pale face. Large green eyes were filled with such worry and her scent told of despair and fear.

Her eyes widened when she took in his disheveled state and saw the trashed room behind his back.

“Jeannie, what happened?” he asked in a coarse voice.

She could smell the alcohol on his breath but she knew he wasn’t drunk. He never was. His healing factor recognized alcohol as a poison and neutralized it. Yet the haunted look in his hazel eyes was foreign to her.

“It’s Scott… he was kidnapped.”

Logan looked at her dumbfounded for a minute then let her in. His mind raced to find possible explanations and the ones it found were the ones he wished weren’t true.

He believed Jean. She was a powerful telepath and telekinetic and shared a special bond with Scott. She must have felt it happen through the link.

He let her in.

“When?”he asked, looking at her slightly rounded figure when she took the coat off.

“An hour and a half ago…” she stopped talking when she realized just how the flat was trashed. The rage and fury evident in every single cut.

“Logan! What happened here?!”

“Nothing,” he said gruffly. “Don’t worry about it. We have to find Scott.”

* * *

Remy was standing in front of a large fireplace in his luxurious condo in one of the most expensive buildings in the city. He was still trying to decide what to do and couldn’t.

Suddenly the phone rang.

He approached the little, antique table and picked up the elegant black phone receiver.

 

“Allo?”

“You wanted me to keep an eye on things…” said the voice on the other side.

“What happened, Robert?”

“Scott Summers was kidnapped on Essex’s command.”

“Merde!” Remy cursed. He remembered Logan’s file and knew it was his best friend.

“Y’ sure about it?” asked Remy. 

“Yeah.”

“Do y’ know where he was taken?”

There was silence on the other side.

“Drake…” Remy’s voice became ice cold. It was no time for games.

“Gambit… Remy… you don’t want to do something stupid, do you? Like going after Essex? It would be plain suicide, you have to know that…”

“Jus’ give me dat fuckin’ address!”

There was a loud sigh on the other side. No matter how harsh they talked to each other, they still were friends.

“Just don’t let yourself be killed, OK?”

“Address…”

“Okay, it’s 27 Elm Street. It’s one of Essex’s headquarters, guarded better than Fort Knox itself. I’ll fax you plans right now. You should get them in a minute.”

“Thank y’, Robert.”

“Yeah… just take care of yourself, Okay? I don’t want to attend your funeral.”

“Oui.”

Remy put the reciever down. The fax beeped and started to spit out sheets of paper. He looked at it and finally knew what he had to do.

Chapter 4

NO POV

Logan sighed, he’d finally convinced Jean to lie down. He wanted to call the police, to force them to start the search but within the first 48 hours no one would do anything. There were no witnesses, no one who could support Jean’s word. 

She was pregnant and he was afraid for her. She seemed to be enduring it well, but she always seemed to be strong, which wasn’t true.

Logan paced the apartment. He’d called a few people. Begging and, when that didn’t work, threatening them for help. Now the only thing he had to do was wait. It was something the Wolverine wasn’t accustomed to.

He had enough with his own problems. But worrying about Scott surely kept his mind off a certain red haired young thief. His heart clenched at the very thought of him. How could he be so stupid? To trust the Cajun! Never had he been so willing to take somebody in. Ever. Maybe it was one of the kid’s powers? Maybe he was a telepath? Maybe he’d been manipulating him from the very start?

But that wouldn’t explain the feelings that he felt deep inside. He cared for the kid. And that feeling was true. The kid probably knew it and had used it against him.

The rage threatened to get the better of him again and he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to remain calm. The urge to let the claws out and cut something nearly took him over when something made him stop in his tracks.

The scent. Spicy, sensual … arousing. His body reacted to it faster than his mind comprehended the person with whom it was associated. He smelled Gambit.

He rushed to the door and jerked it open, unconsciously his claws shot out. A mixture of rage and love nearly caused him to turn feral.

There, right in front of him stood Gambit. Loose, long auburn hair softly caressed that sinfully handsome face. The red on black eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. He was dressed in his ever-present trench coat. His black trousers and burgundy knitted sweater were obviously very expensive. 

The person that stood in front of him wasn’t even near the one he’d known before. That scared, young kid had disappeared and in his place was this mysterious and wary man.

Something in his stance told Logan that he wasn’t afraid nor weak. The deceptive casualness was only a mask, his body was tense and ready to fight. Logan suspected that he KNEW how to fight.

But his first instinct was to launch himself at the traitor. The pain inside his heart told him he’d been used. Deceived. That he was a fool. And he wanted blood.

His hands missed the long, vulnerable throat by mere inches. Gambit made a graceful backwards leap and escaped the first blow, then dodged the second and third. Even when he needed blood to satisfy his anger, the burning need to shower his pain in blood, he restrained himself and sheathed the claws. He wanted to kill the kid slowly and painfully. His claws, which could cut through almost anything, would be far too quick. 

The pain, hatred and confusion hit Remy so hard he thought he would faint. His mental shields were strong but they mysteriously failed to keep the Canadian’s emotions out. He knew Logan could become aggressive and was prepared for a fight but nothing like this.

His own eyes began to sting. His head hurt and he had serious problems with knowing which feelings were his and which were not.

He managed to avoid being hit, but it was so hard to concentrate! Logan’s pain hurt him as well and he felt sick knowing he caused it

At first, Logan hadn’t noticed that the kid was fighting only defensively. He couldn’t hit him and it was driving him insane. The incredible agility of the thief surprised him. However, the way he twisted and bent his body, totally aware and in control, told him that the kid was an outstanding fighter. One that could be a match for him. But another part of his mind, the primal one, wanted more. Wanted to punish him, draw blood.

“I’m going to kill yer, traitor!”, Logan shouted and released his claws. The Wolverine was taking control and he didn’t want to fight it anymore. All he wanted was the pain to go away.

“STOP!” Jean’s voice cut through the air like a whip. Logan however didn’t react. 

But Jean wasn’t an ordinary woman and she used her telekinesis and froze the two men in place. Her first instinct was to probe the stranger’s mind but her thoughts were met with an extremely strong mental shield.

“Wouldn’t do dat again, Chere,” The stranger warned her softly. 

She briefly considered his threat and gently pulled out of his mind. If he had wished, he could have made her crumble to the floor in pain. Being thrown out of somebody’s mind could be painful for a telepath. Or was he just threatening her? Letting her know that he could defend himself? She decided to trust the stranger. There was something vulnerable to him. 

She couldn’t not notice his handsome face and that sensual aura around him. 

“Let me go, Jeannie. I am going to kill that son of a bitch no matter what!”

“Why?”

“He’s a fucking traitor!”

She noticed the strangely fierce emotions in Logan, but didn’t want to pry. The way Remy’s face hardened suggested that Logan’s words hurt him too. 

“I will let you go only if you promise to behave.”

“I am not the one you should lecture, Jeannie. This thief …”

“Knows where Scott Summers is,” Remy cut in.

The silence that fell was almost deafening. Logan’s eyes narrowed when mindless fury fought to overwhelm him, the hurt, the ache deep inside his soul screamed to him to hurt the Cajun just as badly as he had hurt him, not to trust him.

“What do you know about my husband?” Jean asked, her voice trembling a little.

Remy shifted a little to look at the scowling man beside him. The anger, sense of betrayal and hurt were still emanating from the Canadian but now, above all was a blinding rage. And Gambit feel deplorable cause of it. He also had feelings for the feral man and it hurt him that Logan was feeling so bad about him.

“Gambit will help y’. He knows where da man is kept.”

“Why?” Logan asked, controlling the beast within His voice however was so cold that Remy felt shivers run down his spine and a stinging in his eyes. Merde! He couldn’t block those feelings and it was driving him insane. 

“Summers has nothing to do with it.”   
“Don’t you dare to tell me such crap! I will never believe that you care about someone else other than yourself. After all, you are nothing more than a whore for hire.”

Jean hissed at the blunt remark. She’d never heard Logan speak that way. She saw the way the younger man flinched at Logan’s words but he refused to defend himself. His shoulders seemed to slump a little and his face became completely unreadable.

The tension between the two said they clearly had a past. Jean was more than sure that they were lovers. Although Logan always seemed as straight as they come, the young man was a living, walking temptation. 

“Logan …” started the younger man, “Gambit … never wanted dis to happen. Want to help, me,” Remy said softly, the feeling of guilt slowly suffocating him. He wasn’t offended by Logan’s words. He was right. He was nothing more than he’d said.

“You better be telling the truth, cause I’m gonna keep a close eye on you, thief.”

Remy nodded his head and Jean released her telekinetic hold on them.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

 

It was a quiet night when two dark figures arrived on silent feet at the first wall surrounding Essex’s headquarters. They were moving like ghosts, the only sign of their movements were the soft sounds of their even, controlled breathings.

Logan watched the thief carefully. He was sure that Remy was hiding something from him when he’d explained his plan to him. Everything he said was just too smooth, too … something.

Remy looked at his watch and then nodded to Logan. His cell phone beeped once. It meant that Robert Drake, his friend and one of the best hackers to be found in the USA, had disabled the security system for exactly six minutes. That was all the time they had to find Scott and get him out of there. It was Logan’s responsibility to find him by scent. 

They climbed the wall, carefully avoiding the security cameras and made their way to the main building. Once there, Remy took care of the door, which opened swiftly under his trained fingers.

Once inside, Logan took a deep breath. Everything was glass and steel, reinforced doors, cameras and a LOT of other things more suitable for a secret military base than a mob boss’s headquarters.

He sniffed the air and tried to find a familiar scent. They were lucky. Scott had been brought this way.

He motioned to the thief and started to follow the scent. The blood he smelled along with the scent disturbed him. He prayed that his friend was still well enough to escape.

The Cajun stepped silently at his side and Logan wondered just how many times he’d done something like this.

In his mind, Remy was desperately counting seconds. They had very little time. The first guard they encountered was taken down before he could comprehend what happened to him.

The same for the second and third. It seemed almost too easy. Both men felt the hair on the back of their necks stand up. Something was bound to happen. Something bad. 

Logan stopped at an intersection. After a few seconds he choose the left corridor and started to move but a hand to his shoulder stopped him. 

He looked questioningly at the thief. The man’s face, however, was a mask of concentration. The alien red on black eyes gave him the ability to see in complete darkness but in combination with his charge power he was able to see lasers.

The whole floor was literally covered with them.

Slowly he reached inside his trench coat and took a few cards out. They glowed fintly in the dark and then he threw them. As always he hit the bulls eye. 

With soft booms, small explosions disabled the lasers. He smiled smugly, pleased with himself. Only then did he realize Logan’s eyes had been watching him carefully. He turned to look at him and saw Logan staring at his hands.

Logan could just wonder HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he was to believe the vulnerability of the thief.

Logan could just wonder at HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he’d been to believe the thief’s vulnerability. 

Logan sniffed out the room where Scott was being held. His first instinct was to cut through the door but Remy’s hand stopped him again. He fumbled with the electronic lock and eventually they heard a silent “poof” when the hydraulic doors slid open.

The stench of fear and blood hit Logan right in the gut. He swayed a little. He didn’t hear the hiss Remy made when he saw the beaten, bound figure curled in a fetal position on the floor.

Scott’s eyes were covered with a wide piece of Duct Tape, his face bruised and covered in blood. He’d obviously received a hard beating. One of his legs was twisted at an unnatural angle.

“Scott!” Logan called, running to his friend while Remy watched the door.

“L…Logan?” Croaked the man on the floor. He coughed a little, speaking was obviously painful for him, “What took … you … so long?”

“Can you walk?” He asked while cutting the ropes. Scott winced as the circulation returned to his arms, bringing with it a tremendous amount of pain.

“I’m afraid … not.”

As tenderly as he could, Logan tore the tape away and had to grit his teeth in helpless fury at the sight of his friends face. 

“Scott … I have your visor but …” Logan hesitated seeing that Scott’s face was a mess. His nose was obviously broken and his eyebrow had a deep cut. “You are in no condition to wear it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes closed. Will you be able to get me out of here?”

The overwhelming feeling of guilt took Remy’s breath away. It was all because of him. If he hadn’t stalled for time this wouldn’t have happened. Essex knew how to hurt him the most. That man was a genius at manipulating people.

He should never have agreed to work with that man. 

“Hurry up, Logan. De time …”

Scott’s head jerked at the unfamiliar voice.

“Who is it?” Scot asked. 

Logan looked at the tall thief still guarding the door. Although his mind was occupied with something else, he did not forget his betrayal.

“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”

Remy took a step back as if slapped in the face. Merde it hurt. If he wanted, Logan could use words even better than his claws… Remy blinked a few times to get rid of the stinging and turn his face to hide emotions that threatened to overtake him. He was never one to show his weaknesses.

Logan took the exhausted man in his arms and lifted him carefully. Scott only gritted his teeth when his broken ankle was disturbed, but didn’t make a sound understanding the need to be silent.

They started to make their way back when all hell broke loose. All the alarms went off. The sheer volume of noise making them sway. Both men started running towards the door they’d come through.

“Fuck! We’ll never be able to get out of here!” Logan shouted when he heard the sharp raps of many booted feet approaching.

Suddenly something stopped him. Something wasn’t right. He turned around and saw Remy had stopped and was standing eight meters behind

“What…?”

“Remy lied, Cher …” The thief said in a strange voice, “He changed de plans.”

“What do you mean?! If you …”

“Logan.” Something in that even, plain voice stopped him. Only then did he smell the DESPAIR coming off the thief. “Remy want to help. You go save your friend …” While he was talking, he pressed a spot on the wall and suddenly a large block of steel comming from the wall started moving, slowly closing the corridor. 

Remy didn’t move when it started separating him from Logan.

“Dese doors can be blocked … but only from de inside. I am sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”

Logan tried to make a move, drag the thief out of that fucking corridor while still he had the time, but when he stepped closer, a pair of cards appeared in Remy’s hands and he threw them in front of Logan. The explosions pushed him backwards, nearly causing him to lose his balance, but never threatening his life. It was only to stop him.

When the smoke disappeared, there was only a small space between the metal doors and the wall. During these last seconds while it closed, Remy took his glasses off and Logan was able to SEE the real emotions in them, overwhelming sadness, despair and guilt. A Guilt so strong that Remy was determined to do anything to erase it.

When there was just an inch of space left, Logan saw a single tear flow down that handsome face. He had no time to ponder it, however, because he heard the approaching footsteps in the adjoining corridor and when he looked back, the doors were closed. From behind them he heard the muffled sound of explosions.

Refusing to think about it he started running towards the exit with Scott still in his arms. He would take him to a safe place and then return for the thief. He would probably find his own way back, after all he knew the plans better…

However he was never given the chance to do so. When he left the building, heading towards the car in which Jean was waiting, he heard the sound of a helicopter leaving the building and then a powerful explosion, which caused him to fall to his knees. When he looked back all he saw was a blazing fireball.

Chapter 5 

It had been a long month. A long 31 days. Scott had been released from the hospital and was now being nursed by a loving wife. Logan, in his trashed apartment, clung to the remains of the Cajun’s scent.

Remy was most likely dead. He’d had no chance of surviving. The building had been on fire for two days, it had taken the firefighters 48 hours to extinguish the blaze completely. The amount of bodies that had been found inside had been frightening, almost twenty-five people. All the corpses had been incinerated so identification was nearly impossible.

Logan entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. The sheets still smelled like him.

The first few days he’d spent trying to understand why Remy had done such a thing? Why had he sacrificed his own life? And the feelings he’d seen in his eyes before the door closed … was there something deeper? Love?

He groaned and covered his face with his arm. It was no use in tormenting himself like this. He could not bring the kid back. Nothing could.

Before he knew it, he fell asleep. A slumber with dark, haunting images that left him more exhausted than before. He’d hardly slept these past few weeks. Day and night the only thing he was able to think of was the beautiful Cajun thief. He kept wondering what would have happened if he’d been more … forgiving? Less feral? He should have seen the truth when the thief came here to help him find Scott. But he was too caught up in his own pain to see anything. Maybe, if he’d noticed that desperate wish to pay for his sins, maybe he would be able to save his life? 

Soft knocking on his door woke him from a light sleep. The unfamiliar scent surprised him. Whoever was there smelled like … ice?

Curious he opened the door only to see a young man, blonde, athletic, not to tall. He was definitely a mutant. Logan’s nose was never wrong. And he was nervous.

“Yeah?”

“Um … Mr. Logan?”

“Yes, who are you?”

“My name is Robert Drake.”

“So?” Logan asked gruffly.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

The blonde man reached into his pocket and took out three discs. Two of which looked painfully familiar.

Logan grabbed the kid by the collar and dragged him through the door, slamming him into the wall.

“What is this all about? Who are you? Where did you go these?” His face turned into menacing snarl.

“Remy told me to give it back to you.”

Logan let him go at once.

“Remy? Is he alive? Where …”

“He gave them to me a month ago and told me to wait three weeks before I gave them back. The third one contains a lot of data on Essex. Remy gathered the info personally. This stuff will allow you to put that bastard away for life.”

“Who are you?” Logan asked once again.

“A friend of Remy’s. I was the one who disabled the security system when you saved Scott Summers.”

“Do you know where he is?”

Suddenly the young man turned his gaze away. Logan knew he was hiding something. 

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this. After all it was because of you that Remy went on that suicide mission. I knew there was no way out of that fucking headquarters. But he wanted to erase his guilt so desperately … I should have known,” he sighed. Then his eyes turned to ice and his voice had an edge of anger to it.

“It was your fault! You never gave him a chance.”

Logan wanted to growl, snap at the kid but couldn’t. After all he was telling the truth.

“I … he betrayed my trust. Worked for Essex. He …”

“He wanted to find his sister!”

“What?!”

“You never even asked him, did you?” Drake shouted, “When he came here to help you, you never even considered forgiving him … He worked for Essex because that bastard found his kid sister, that Remy lost years ago, and demanded those fucking discs in exchange for her address. Remy has no family, only her.”

Logan felt a sick feeling of guilt inside his chest and tried to swallow around a lump in his throat. 

“You said ‘has’. Does that mean Remy’s alive?”

“I’m not sure you can call it that, but … yeah. He’s alive.”

“Where can I find him?”

* * *

He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t speak. 

The only thing Logan could do was stare at the fragile figure on the hospital bed wired to so many machines that it was hard to even see the outline of the body. The sickness. The pain. The hurt he smelled coming off what used to be Remy made him sick. His face was bruised, his chest cut by knife or claws … the doctors couldn’t decide which. The skin on his wrists completely torn away leaving only raw flesh. The bruises and other small wounds covered every inch of his body. His long hair had lost it’s shine and spilled over the white pillow lifelessly just like the rest of him.

He looked so young. So fragile and vulnerable … so dead.

“What …” Logan croaked, unable to speak more.

Drake, standing beside him was also quiet. He, however, had time to get used to the sight of his friend. It still hurt, but he knew what to expect when he entered the room.

He didn’t warn Logan. He let him enter unprepared. He wanted to hurt him, cause him pain because he knew, Remy’d done it only for Logan. Silently, he watched the Canadian go pale and saw the sheer terror in his face.

“He was found four days ago. There are no life threatening injuries any more. His body is healing fine, the problem is his mind.”

Logan looked at him questioningly.

Bobby went over to the bed and pulled the thick gauze away to reveal opened red on black eyes. Eyes that didn’t react to his touch or presence at all. 

“Remy …” Logan called brokenly, still expecting the thief to look at him, react. But there was nothing.

“What … what happened?”

Drake looked at him, took in the pain and after a long moment he answered.

“Remy is … was … an empath. Essex is a telepath. He tortured him from both physical and psychical sides. Dr. Xavier, one of the most powerful telepaths, said that there is nothing he can do. Remy’s mind … was overloaded with pain and suffering. Essex kept abusing him till he broke and finally stopped reacting to everything around him. When he lost the ability to feel pain, Essex got rid of him.”

Logan came closer and looked into the lifeless eyes that used to seduce him. He remembered the way Remy got him into bed. Using not words but touches, scents and sights. He understood him so well … If only he’d given the kid a chance to explain!

“The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”

“Remy … oh god … Remy …” Logan reached out a shaking hand and tried to touch Remy’s hand but the amount of IV’s and other tubes made it almost impossible. Finally he settled for the cheek. 

Only his fingertips touched the cold skin. He shivered remembering that this skin used to be so warm, hot even …

When they made love that one time, Remy’s face had been flushed, eyes burning with lust and need that had been real. Only now, when his rage had died, did he remember the scents that were real. No one could fool his nose. The lust he smelled on the kid had always been true, the tenderness and trust also. 

He remembered the way the kid had given his body to him. With complete and utter trust. He’d made that experience the most erotic memory he had. Now he was lying in that hospital bed without even the tiniest spark of life in him.

Logan tenderly pushed the dirty hair from his face, so focused on the thief that he didn’t notice Bobby, quickly blinking, leaving the room. 

“I’m sorry, Darlin’. Oh, God I am so sorry …”

He closed his eyes while the memories came crashing down on him.

His apartment, that first night when he found the kid on his doorstep and then watched him change his clothes.

Logan stood in the entrance to the bathroom and watched the Cajun. He still hadn't figured out how the hell the kid got him to agree to him staying here.

Gambit slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off. He seemed to not notice Logan observing him, but Logan knew better. He had caught the change in the kid's breathing. Still, he watched the muscles of those long arms rippling when he was undressing. Still the kid proceeded to undress…

There was something almost hypnotizing in the thief taking off one piece of clothing at a time.

He was beautifully built. His long slender, elegant body was definitely eye-catching.

The Cajun washed his hands and then unbuttoned his Levi's. There was a loud /slump/ when the wet material hit the floor. Remy was now standing only in his briefs and started to slowly unwrap the bandage from his left wrist. Never once did he take his glasses off.

"Why are you wearing glasses?"

Remy stilled, his head bent, completely focused on his wrist. Logan KNEW he wouldn't get an answer. The kid was like an oyster – kept his mouth shut. He refused to explain to Logan just exactly WHY was he sleeping on his doorstep. He merely stared at him in silence, smelling of fear, loneliness and despair.

Right now he wondered just how much of it had been the truth? Maybe he hadn’t been playing a game to seduce him? Maybe he he’d been showing his real face?

Then he remembered his words, so cruel and cold.

“Traitor!…I will never believe that you care about someone else other than yourself. After all you are nothing more than a whore for hire.”

He recalled the way Remy hadn’t defend himself. The way he lowered his head as if accepting those blunt words.

Only once did he react to Logan’s comments. In Essex’s headquarters, when Scott asked who was with him.

“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”

He SAW the way the kid backed away a little, the pain on his face before he regained his composure. The mask had shifted a little showing how much those words hurt him. 

And that last image of him, the still live, like an action movie … those last seconds before the damned door shut. 

Remy taking his glasses off.

Those red on black eyes filled with love he’d refused to see.

The single tear making it’s way down and that sad desperation in his face, the knowledge, the absolute certainty that Logan would never forgive him.

Logan squeezed his eyes wishing things were different. If only … 

But there was no chance of changing the past. His mistakes always came back to haunt him. 

He looked into that pale face and felt the hot wetness on his cheeks. There was a time when he vowed he would never cry. The first and the last time had been when Jean left him for Scott. He thought he’d loved her with all his heart. Now he knew it was a lie. That feeling in comparison to what he felt for the thief was nothing more than a crush.

The deep ache that seemed to cut through his soul like a hot knife made the beast inside him want to howl in pain. Tears ran freely down his face. 

“Oh God, Remy …”

And the tide broke. Feelings, memories … everything came rushing back to him.

"Shh… cher, let Remy help… Let Remy take care of dis…" He whispered softly while touching the burning, thick cock, with only his fingertips.

“Traitor! …Whore for hire!”

“No one…”

“… I’m sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”

The only time Remy spoke in first person.

Logan needed to touch Remy so desperately. It seemed that all his being, his very sense of existence, closed in on this single desire. To touch. To feel. To make sure that there was even the tiniest spark of hope, of life left in the body on the bed.

“…Traitor…”

“…Whore…”

“…No one…”

“…Remy sorry…”

“…Kill you…”

“ The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”

“…are no chances…”

“…Ever…”

He gathered the lifeless body in his arms, seemingly not noticing the IV’s and tubes. He awkwardly pulled the upper body close to his chest and supported the completely limp head.  
He couldn’t take it any more. Logan threw his head backwards and howled in pain, letting all the hurt and pain out, screaming his soul away.

Because he loved the man lying so lifelessly in his arms. And it was too late…

Chapter 6

Logan watched the still figure on his bed and wondered how had it all happened? When did his life turn into a disaster? He moved closer and pushed the still slightly damp hair off the Cajuns face. It had been three weeks since Drake had showed Remy to him. Essex’s trial had begun … the odds were, he’d be sentenced to life imprisonment. But Logan wasn’t interested in watching the trial. All he wanted was the young man to come out of his coma.

When Remy’s wounds healed, he was released from the hospital. Since he had no family, Logan decided to take him in. He felt as if he had a debt to pay … and he needed to take care of the thief.

During the last few weeks, spent sitting beside Remy’s bed and talking to him about everything and nothing, he understood just how much he loved him. He always felt uneasy around sick people. Maybe because he was unfamiliar with the constant physical illness due to his healing factor, maybe because of his somewhat animalistic nature … but taking care of Remy wasn’t like he thought it would be. Maybe it was because he loved the man? But he found infinite care and patience inside himself. He fed, dressed and washed the kid and there was never even a single uneasy thought about it. All he wanted was for Remy to get well again. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. How much he cared, how much he regretted his cruel words.

“Remy …” He whispered softly, his feelings clear in his voice. “I wish you were here with me to watch the sunrise. It’s cold outside but the sun is bright …” his voice cracked a little. The doctors said it would be good to talk to Remy, because he may hear something, but they weren’t sure it would help. 

But he tried. Talked and talked ‘till his throat had gone dry. He kept stroking the thief’s hair and telling him how it was outside. Finally, after what seemed like hours he could talk no more.

Slowly he moved the kid on the bed and lay next to him. Gently he wrapped his arms around the thin figure and pulled him close to his chest.

“Sleep now, Darlin’. It’s okay. I’m here, you’re with me. You’re safe … I love you Remy,” he whispered softly, nuzzling Remy’s neck and closing his eyes for a short nap. He hadn’t slept much these days and felt tired. Strangely tired. Like nothing he’d felt before.

The kind of exhaustion that reached down to his very soul …

* * *

Warmth.

He felt something warm engulfing him. His body had been cold and numb for so long. And silent.

Everything around him had been so silent … He couldn’t remember why or how he ended up in this strange place, but it didn’t bother him. 

Thinking was hard. His mind seemed so lazy, thoughts so incoherent. He didn’t want to focus on anything.

His body was numb. He felt as if he was floating on the surface of water. Still … he was cold.

He longed to fall asleep again, to stop that chaotic train of thoughts. To sleep before the pain came back. Slowly he started drifting to numbness again but the warmth was just on the edge of his senses.

Warmth.

He tried to open his eyes, to see what it was, but couldn’t. His whole world consisted of endless blackness. But the strange, foreign feeling forced him to THINK. To focus on it. It was hard. Trying to understand just what it was. He wasn’t sure he even WANTED to do it.

Something inside him struggled against that decision, telling him it was better to stay here, like this, oblivious to the outside world.

* * *

Still sleeping, Logan felt the body beside him become gradually colder. Acting on instinct, he pulled the body closer, wrapping himself around it in order to give his mate his own body heat.

* * *

The feeling became more intense, as if it refused to be forgotten, pushed aside. It seemed to slowly creep closer.

Now it wasn’t something on the edge of his mind. It nearly touched him. Suddenly he was afraid. The HEAT was strange, foreign to him.

Part of him wanted to let it swallow him, to let him feel again but the other part of his mind refused, screamed to him to get away. Told him that the cold was good, the numbness was good. Because when he was numb, he couldn’t feel. No pleasure and no pain …

* * *

Logan woke up startled by the sudden stench of fear in the room. The body in his arms was completely rigid. The cold skin grey and covered in sweat. Logan knew something wrong was going on, but couldn’t understand just what it was.

Suddenly, Remy’s eyes snapped open. They were unfocused and looked fogged, as if he was heavily drugged.

“Remy …” Logan called softly, not wanting to spook him, “can you hear me?”

So very slowly the red on black eyes focused, first on his surroundings, taking in where he was, and then on Logan. For a long moment Logan thought he saw recognition in them but he was wrong. As soon as Remy understood that the weight above him was actually a man, he started struggling wildly.

Logan let out a surprised yelp when the scent of fear became sickening in its intensity and Remy’s nails started tearing through his flesh, drawing blood. The panic, the animalistic fear, above everything else, gave his still weak body a surprising strength. Remy should’ve been as weak as a kitten but he fought for all he was worth.

Knowing that restraining the kid would only make matters worse Logan backed off.

As soon as he was free, Remy bolted out of bed. His legs, not used to keeping his weight any more, gave up and he fell but kept crawling away from Logan, away from the large man.

Something inside Logan howled seeing Remy like this, scared out of him mind, reduced to animalistic behavior.

Remy curled into a protective ball in the farthest corner of the room, and hissed at Logan weakly when the older man tried to approach him.

The kid was obviously in pain. So many weeks without moving had taken its toll on his physical condition. Keeping that curled position must have been painful but the fear was stronger.

“Remy …” Logan tried once more.

The kid backed off even more, not trusting him, afraid and hissed with more force, baring his teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, wild and unfocused. 

There was no way he could approach the Cajun without making him even more afraid. Instead, he slowly sank to his knees, sitting on the floor trying to look as unthreatening as possible and started talking to him. Just like he had, when Remy was completely catatonic. He was sure Remy didn’t understand a word. But the calm, steady sound of Logan’s voice did catch his attention.

Logan talked about his love for the young man, about all those weeks spent in the hospital by his motionless side, and about his decision to take care of him.

He talked for hours, aware of the sun going down and the ache in his muscles as he forced himself to remain in the same position for such a long time. He felt the pressure on his bladder but didn’t dare move. For some time now, the kid seemed to be listening to his voice. He was oblivious to the words he said but the timbre told him that Logan wasn’t going to attack him.

“Remy please … come back to me. I would do anything for you, anything. I am so sorry I didn’t give you a chance. It was my entire fault. If I hadn’t been blinded by my own anger and hurt I could have seen your hurt as well. When you came back to save Scott … you never even believed I would forgive you, didn’t you? You didn’t try to fight my words. Those cruel, unjustified words. I know that they hurt you more deeply than any knife. I am so sorry Remy … so sorry …”

He didn’t even notice he was crying until he smelled salt in the air. He wanted to wipe the tears away but then Remy moved and Logan froze, not wanting to scare the kid again. Slowly, Remy started crawling towards Logan, his eyes focused on something on his face. Logan didn’t dare to even breathe. He sat there still as a rock praying to every god he knew for his lover to come back to him.

When Remy reached him, he stopped about a foot away and hesitated. Logan wanted to encourage his lover but was afraid to make a gesture or a sound, because it could have the opposite effect of what he intended.

He looked at the skinny Cajun and suddenly noticed the way Remy always avoided his eyes, the way he crawled with his head low and hair over his eyes. For some reason he was afraid of eye contact and Logan took a risk. He closed his eyes and waited.

For a long moment nothing happened, all he could hear was the kid’s harsh, ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart and then he heard him move. Ever so carefully he crawled closer and reached a shaking hand to Logan’s face. Then the Canadian felt cold fingertips tracing wet trails on his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Remy staring at his fingers and then slowly bring them to his mouth to lick the salty tears, tasting them with wary curiosity. 

Logan felt new tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them away. He hated seeing Remy like this.

“Remy …” he whispered softly, but that was enough to break the spell and Remy jumped a good five feet away from him in one panicked movement.

Logan immediately stilled himself cursing his stupidity.

Then he felt it.

It took him a moment to realize that the feeling had been accompanying him for the last few days but he was so focused on Remy that he hadn’t noticed it.

There was a light tugging on the edge of his mind. Nothing irritating or threatening, more like a soft, hesitant presence. 

“Remy is an empath” he remembered Drake saying. 

Was it Remy? He desperately tried to remember what empath’s did. They could feel other people’s feelings and send them …

He focused on his love, the need to protect and cherish the Cajun, hoping he would pick it up and relax a little. He couldn’t understand words but maybe he could understand feelings?

Logan concentrated on the memories of Remy trying to seduce him, that time in his bedroom when he experienced a blowjob given by a man for the first time. He remembered the way the Cajun had intrigued and aroused him, the way he felt during their first and only night together. 

Suddenly he heard a soft whimper from the kid. Slowly, Logan turned to face him and looked at the disheveled, still scared and now confused thief. He WAS getting the message but couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. But when Logan moved a little closer, Remy didn’t back off in panic. 

Logan smiled at the small victory and proceeded to move closer, still not sure how close he would be allowed. And then Remy’s stomach growled. Logan stopped.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, but got no answer.

“Eat?” he tried once more, using only one simple word.

Remy looked at him, but there was no understanding in his eyes. At least the fear had receded.

Cautiously, Logan started backing off. He figured that getting up in front of the still crouching thief would be bad thing.

When he was nearly at the door he stood up.

“I am going to bring you something to eat … you just stay here, okay?” he asked, unsure. Remy only stared at him, not showing any signs of understanding.

Slowly, Logan made his way to the kitchen thinking about what had happened. His heart rejoiced at the thought that Remy wasn’t catatonic any more, but this wasn’t much better either. Right now he had problems with thinking of something to eat. For the past few months, IV’s had fed Remy. His stomach would refuse to keep anything heavy so he decided on a simple sandwich. 

While he was preparing the light snack, his acute sense of hearing caught movement in the entrance to the kitchen. He pretended he didn’t feel the eyes observing him, nor that he noticed the crouched figure in the shadows.

When he finished, he wasn’t surprised to find nothing behind him. Slowly, he returned to the bedroom, the plate in his hands and found Remy curled in the corner. If it weren’t for his acute senses he would never have known about the thief’s little trip.

He put the plate on the floor and backed off till he was sitting on the bed. Just like he thought. Only when he was away did Remy approach the plate. Carefully, he sniffed the sandwiches and looked at them from every side, often casting a careful glance at Logan. 

His stomach growled once more and, finally, Remy started eating. Logan smiled watching him. He had the feeling that everything would be okay. It had to be.

When Remy finished eating he backed to his corner once more. Logan could see he was tired. His eyes were drifting shut, but the kid fought it. He still didn’t trust Logan enough to fall asleep in front of the other man.

Understanding, Logan slowly shed his clothes, staying only in his sweats and crawled into bed. He turned off the light and pretended to asleep. After a very long moment he heard the even, slow breathing coming from the corner of the room.

Moving as slowly as possible, he got up and put a pillow and a blanked near the kid. He knew he would only wake him up if he tried to tuck him in, so he just left the items there, hoping Remy would use them if he got cold during the night.

* * *

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Remy woke up.

Two weeks without a word from his lover, only occasional hissing when the younger man felt threatened.

Two weeks of constant hope. 

Two weeks of going to bed early and wishing desperately that the next day, when he opened his eyes, he would see Remy smiling at him … or at least recognizing him.

Remy seemed to remember what bathrooms were for, he knew how to use utensils but didn’t understand a word Logan said. 

The presence in his mind was also strange. It appeared and left without warning. Sometimes it was strong enough that Logan could FEEL Remy in it. But mostly there was just pain.

He couldn’t remember if he’d ever hurt so much. He loved Remy with all his might but he started losing hope. He found himself slowly accepting the fact that Remy LeBeau would never be himself again. 

Since awakening he hadn’t made any progress. 

Right now, lying in his bed he decided to call Jean first thing in the morning. Until now he’d waited for Remy to heal himself, not believing that he would appreciate strangers messing around in his head, but there seemed to be no other way.

He closed his eyes desperately wishing to fall asleep to the sound of even breathing coming from the corner.

Remy refused to leave the corner, he did however accept some blankets and a mattress from Logan. But there still was no trust in the kid.

* * *

Logan woke up panting and sweating. He was having one of the wettest dreams of his life when his senses told him he was being observed. 

He still had the taste of Remy’s skin on his tongue, the soft moans in his ears when he was jerked back to reality. His eyes snapped open, body tense and ready to fight any possible attacker when he saw a still to thin figure perched at the edge of his bed.

He blinked to adjust his eyes to darkness and saw the strangely focused look on the Cajun’s face that seemed so normal, so human right now.

It took him a moment to realize he had thrown his blankets off during sleep and his erection was clearly visible under the thin sweats.

Remy looked at his face and then at his body, pausing for a long moment at his groin.

Logan swallowed thickly wondering if his state had scared the young man. He remembered what the doctors told him, the internal damage – the tearing in his rectum, some of it obviously caused by sharp objects.

There was no doubt the kid had been sexually abused above mental and physical torture. The doctors told him that even if he survived, he would never react normally to sex. Ever.

Did he scare him?

“Remy …” he spoke softly, the sound of his voice didn’t scare the thief anymore. “You know I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Never … trust me … please …”

Remy moved his eyes back to his grey ones. There was a strange understanding in those red on black eyes, the knowledge and awareness, but it only lasted for a second. 

Then he felt the gentle touch in his mind. It was … different from what he was used to. Less shy, less frightened more … curious?

He sniffed the air trying to determine Remy’s emotions by his scent and he did feel curiosity. 

Slowly, he relaxed his body and his mind allowing that foreign presence to seek his mind for whatever answer it needed.

He didn’t move when Remy scooted a little closer. Nor did he move when he felt the first shy touch on his chest. Cold, fragile fingers stroked him lightly, sliding just above his nipple. He failed to restrain a moan. He was still rock hard from the dream and his enhanced senses included hypersensitivity to touch. Usually, he was able to hide his reactions but it was months since he’d had sex and during the last few weeks he couldn’t even jack off because Remy was watching him too closely. His body was on edge. He got these wet dreams more and more often and when he woke up, hard and aching he couldn’t even relieve the need. Not with Remy pretending to be sleeping in the corner of the room.

He was jerked from his musings by the scent.

Fear mixed with arousal coming off Remy in great waves. He looked at the red haired man in front of him but the red bangs hid his eyes from him. Suddenly, there were TWO hands gliding along his chest. 

Cold touch on his flat stomach that trembled just like his thoughts. He didn’t know what was happening. Should he be allowing it? Or should he stop the kid?

In the end, the decision wasn’t his. The moment he wanted to push Remy away, something changed. The kid looked upon him, eyes burning red with something that actually scared Logan – madness.

Anger, lust, hurt … hatred, everything mixed together and causing the red orbs to flare. 

Something had changed, snapped in the Cajun and now all the hurt, pain and fear was seeking a way out. And Logan was his closest target.

“Re—” he wanted to call him again but the usually neutral presence in his mind changed. 

Logan arched upwards, nearly coming off the bed, and roared in pain as an empathic attack hit full force on his exposed, unguarded mind. 

The sheer amount of pain was threatening to turn him feral. Such hurt. He howled and thrashed on the bed not sure what was happening, his senses were obviously fooling him. He felt as if the skin of his wrists and ankles was being torn from his flesh. It hurt so much he started choking on his own screams. But that wasn’t the worst.

He felt the imaginary fists, heavy and skilled, coming down on his body. He actually heard the crushing of his ribs, the unbearable pain of drawing a breath in.

But still it wasn’t that bad. His feral side was near to overwhelming him and started pushing the presence from his mind and the feelings eased. When he felt the tortures go down his body he understood.

Somehow he was experiencing everything Remy had and consciously he surrendered his mind to everything. He willingly offered himself to the raging red eyes in front of him. He didn’t even notice the kid straddling his stomach when the incredible pain shot from his lower back up his spine. He felt as if he was being ripped apart, cut from the inside. The pain so strong, so maddening, that he couldn’t even scream. The sounds he made were nothing more that choked whimpers. 

Vaguely, he was aware of other sounds accompanying him. Screams, whimpers and growls that came from the thin figure atop him. 

When the pain subsided he was hit with a wave of anger so strong it made him sick inside. Remy was screaming, his eyes shut, obviously reliving it all again. He clawed with his short nails at his chest, ripping Logan’s skin and drawing blood from sensitive spots. He wanted to fight, his instinct told him to throw his assailant off, but he couldn’t. Some part of him told him that if Remy got it all out of him, he would be okay again.

He didn’t try to fight the fingers cutting into his skin, nor did he react at the fists that came afterwards. Hard, surprisingly fierce blows, cascading onto his jaw, eyes, nose. He felt it being broken and heal a moment later. He could taste his own blood, but he merely clenched his hands on the sheet to keep himself still.

Remy was now shouting something unintelligible, shaking like a man in agony and his eyes burned with red light, illuminated his still to skinny face with a demonic glow.

Logan’s senses were assaulted from inside and outside. He felt the blows but he also felt the empathic assault, oddly thankful for it. His instinct told him that there was still more to come. And he wasn’t wrong.

Instead of calming himself down, Remy seemed to go deeper and deeper into his madness now tearing Logan’s sweats to pieces. Logan understood he had to live through the sexual abuse that Remy had endured. He braced himself for everything to come.

His head was spinning when he felt the cold hand close over his still partially hard member and stroke it ruthlessly, squeezing painfully hard. He howled when his mind was again flooded with feelings, emotions, and memories. The fear, shame, despair … death wish. It all coursed through him like a train, leaving him hurting and gasping. The desperate strokes still managed to arouse him, because part of his mind knew it was Remy and wanted him. And that fact set him off even more.

Logan felt the short nails cut into the sensitive skin of his thighs and howled in pain. The sound ended abruptly when those nails scraped along his shaft causing him to bleed. He bit his own tongue, nearly choking on it. Tears were running down his cheeks while the assault continued. Remy kept punishing his body, him for everything HE had suffered.

Logan felt his legs being jerked open and KNEW what was coming. But he still didn’t want to fight Remy. He could do it, even with his mind practically fried from the emotions, he was still physically stronger and could take the kid down in a matter of seconds. 

He was surprised at the kid’s strength, the amount of force he used to grasp his thighs and keep them open was painful. 

Logan only managed to take a deep breath and prepare himself for more pain when he felt the pressure. 

There was no hesitating, no feeling in it. Just hate, hurt and desperate need to hurt back. Logan heard the stief spit on his hands and probably lubricate himself and then he felt the flat head of the thief’s cock PUSH inside, tearing him open. Without any preparation, lubricant … nothing, the pain was unbearable. He FELT his insides being torn, the delicate surface of his rectum burned and he was sure his muscles were torn. His healing factor didn’t help either because as soon as the tears were healed the hard cock inside him tore him again.

 

The movement became faster when his own blood lubricated his passage. He never imagined that rape could HURT so much. He wasn’t aware he was crying not only for the young man thrashing so madly above him and shouting something no one could understand, but also because of the pain.

Suddenly, Remy slammed into him once more and stilled. Logan observed him cumming. Although his body seemed to find release, and he felt the hot seed being released inside him, he knew there was no pleasure in it. 

As the spasms were coursing through the young man, silent sobs could be heard. He collapsed on Logan sobbing and crying and shaking, completely spent. The explosion of anger and hatred had exhausted him. 

The menacing presence in his mind also receded. The softening cock slipped out of him and Logan released a strangled sigh, letting his body heal and cleared his mind of the pain. He refused to think about what happened. 

Slowly, he untangled his hands from the torn sheets and put his arms around the shivering and sobbing young man on top of him. 

His senses were assaulted with the odor of seed, blood, salt and sadness.

He felt tears dripping from Remy’s eyes onto his freshly healed chest and tried to hug the kid, praying to the gods that Remy would allow him to hold him.

The Cajun cried for hours, when he had no more tears he shook with dry sobs that threatened to tear Logan’s heart apart. Nothing he experienced that night was worse than hearing those heart wrenching sounds. The depression, hurt … all that Logan couldn’t take away from Remy.

Instead he stroked his hair and murmured soft nothings, trying to soothe him, to let him know he wasn’t alone.

Finally, Remy fell asleep, lying on top of a blood covered Wolverine.

When the sun came up, Remy woke. He saw the bloody marks on the wide, hairy chest he was lying on and the events of the previous night came back to him. He wanted to jerk back but the strong arms that surrounded him, refused to let him go.

He looked up into gentle gray eyes and froze.

Logan stared at him with such joy, he couldn’t speak. The moment he heard the kid wake up he was terrified he’d find Remy in his animal-like state again. But when he saw the awareness and recognition in the Cajun’s alien eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Remy was back.

They stared at each other for an endless moment.

“I … hurt you …” Remy whispered hoarsely, his throat sore from the screaming.

“I love you,” Logan blurted out. He knew he should have said something different, assure him that nothing was wrong, but he was still terrified that he wouldn’t have another chance to say it. “I love you so much, Remy. I thought I’d lost you … I love you …” Logan realized he was loosing control but the need to tell all this to Remy was overwhelming. “Please believe me! Please! I know you’re an empath, read my feelings!”

Remy stared at him in shock. After all that he had done … and that dreadful night, Logan told him, he loved him?

“Please …” Logan begged, all his pride put aside. If he lost Remy, he lost everything worth living for.

Still shocked, but unable to resist, Remy reached out to Logan’s mind with his empathy. Tentatively, he lingered just at the edge of it. He remembered the ease with which he’d linked to Logan last night and was now surprised to find strong defenses in his way.

And, suddenly, they all were gone and his mind stood wide open to him and Remy understood that Logan gave in to him last night. He looked at all those powerful muscles and KNEW he would have had no chances at all in his weakened state. 

Still unsure, he slipped into the mind of Wolverine and FELT. Felt all that love, guilt, the need to protect, the fear of loosing him.

It made his heart sing. He gasped at the sheer strength of Logan’s feelings. He … LOVED … him. The realization hitting him only now.

Slowly, still unsure of himself, he opened his own mind and let Logan feel HIS emotions. The soft, tender yet fierce, love he had for the older man.

He felt those strong arms pull him closer for a hug. 

“Oh god … How I missed you. I thought I would never have you in my arms again …” Logan whispered, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.

“Love you too, Logan. All that time … I just wanted to come back to you … just never thought it possible,” Remy whispered hoarsely.

Epilogue

Remy stood in the bathroom trying to comb his long, wet hair when the door opened. In the bathroom mirror he saw Logan in sweatpants. He smiled at his lover, who still wasn’t very awake. 

His unruly hair stood up in every possible direction and his eyes were heavy lidded as he headed for the shower.

Logan stopped in front of Remy and pulled him close for a kiss. After two months, Remy was no longer stiffening in his arms. Although they didn’t have sex yet, they explored each others bodies with their hands. 

They spent some serious time in bed together only touching and tasting, never taking it further, but Logan felt it was time to try something new. He knew Remy would never be able to have sex as a submissive partner because of what he’d endured but Logan had other ideas in mind. 

“Morning, Cher,” the thief said, panting a little when Logan finally let him go.

“Morning, care to join me?”

Remy only laughed and shook his head. He knew that if he entered that shower they wouldn’t finish until noon.

“Non. I’m going to grab something to eat.”

Logan stroked the now healthy looking face and whispered, “I love you, thief.”

“Love you, too,” Remy answered and left the bathroom, giving Logan a playful swat on the ass.

Logan growled at him half-heartedly and stepped into the shower. He had some things to consider.

* * *

“Cher!” Remy called as soon as he entered the apartment he now shared with Logan. 

“I’m in here!” Logan called from the bedroom. 

When Remy entered the room he froze in awe. 

Logan was doing his kata. He could do nothing but stare at the magnificent body, the hard muscles rippling under tanned skin, and lick his lips. His cock twitched in agreement as Logan went through the moves.

Remy noticed the way Logan’s nostrils flared and he knew the feral man was scenting the air, scenting his arousal.

“Fuck! I can’t concentrate!” Logan said and in one lightning-speed movement was right in front of Remy, kissing him passionately.

Remy tangled his hands in that unruly mass of wiry hair and moaned into the kiss. He found that Logan was VERY responsive to the sounds he made.

“Remy … I want …”

“Want what, Cher?”

“I wan’t you to make love to me … take me,” Logan said finally.

Instantly Remy started shaking his head. No! He couldn’t do this! The memories of that fatal night came back to him. He’d hurt Logan! He couldn’t risk doing that again.

“Non … don’ wanna hurt you Logan …”

“Shh … let us try, Darlin’. If you feel bad about it, we’ll stop.”

“Why do you want dis, Cher? After dat night …”

“I want you. I love you and I need to feel you.”

The red-eyed Cajun looked at him for a long moment before nodding.

Logan kissed him once more and soon the kid was panting again, they were trying to get their clothes off in a hurry to feel each others skin. It seemed as if the longer they were together, the stronger their desire was. 

Soon they were lying on the bed touching, feeling, tasting each other in a frenzy. The hunger, their love for each other was overwhelming.

Logan rolled then so that Remy was resting on top of him.

“You sure, Cher?” the thief asked for the thousandth time.

“Yes. I wan’t you,” he caressed the handsome face with his fingertips. Both men were painfully aroused and needed release one way or another.

When Logan was sure Remy wouldn’t bolt on him, he reached towards the bedside table and took out a small bottle of lube. He smiled reassuringly at the thief and handed it to him. He laid back and slowly spread his legs for easier access.

Although Remy was hesitating, a little scared, he also caught the strong scent of arousal. It WAS turning him on. 

At the first touch of a slick finger near his hole he consciously blocked memories. Now Remy was almost constantly in his mind and the last thing he wanted right now was a flashback of that terrible night when Remy broke down.

He moaned when that finger pushed inside. The intrusion wasn’t painful … just strange. He wasn’t sure he liked the feeling when the second finger joined the first one inside him.

Now he felt it more fully, the STRETCH, the actual penetration. Remy was murmuring soft, reassuring words and his free hand kept stroking his rock hard cock.

Slowly, Remy bent over and captured his lips, kissing him deeply and using his tongue to mimic what his fingers were doing inside his tight passage, while his other hand fisted him.

Logan could only melt under all that attention. He knew Remy was using his “Charm” on him and it was the reason the sensations seemed so intense, but he didn’t mind it. It took him long weeks to talk Remy into using his empathy openly on him. But it was a good decision.

He arched his back from the bed when there were THREE fingers inside him and they were touching THAT spot that made him almost levitate from the bed.

Then the sensation was gone. 

He opened his eyes to look at the hooded, red on black eyes that were filled with desire and lust.

“Going to make you feel good, real good, Cher …” Remy whispered softly as he coated himself with lube. Logan licked his lips when the younger man positioned himself between his legs.

“Je t’aime, Logan,” Remy said as he slowly started pushing in. 

Logan gritted his teeth at the PRESSURE and then exhaled as Remy sank into him in one, swift movement. It hurt a little, but nowhere near as bad as that night.

They both froze. Logan trying to adjust to the long, hard shaft inside him, stretching and filling him so completely and utterly. Remy trying to control himself and not hurt his lover. He closed his eyes and savored the hot, tight grip of his lover’s body on his cock.

“Yer gonna move or did you fall asleep there?” Logan asked him. Maybe he was a little uncomfortable, still not sure if he liked it or not, but he was also aroused so much that he DESPERATELY needed some kind of release. 

Remy moved, thrusting the rest of his long shaft into his lover and pulling out slowly. Logan grunted at the strange feeling. Not bad at all …

Then Remy grinned in that wicked way of his and changed the angle of his thrust. Logan thought he would come right then. The feeling of the whole length of his lover’s shaft sliding across his prostate sent him flying. But that wasn’t all. Remy positioned himself so that he would hit that spot at each stroke in and out.

Soon Logan was writhing and thrashing under him, nearing his climax. 

Remy leaned closer and kissed him, positioning so that with every thrust, Logan’s cock was caught between their sweat-soaked bodies and that friction was enough to push the Wolverine over the edge.

He came screaming his lover’s name. His orgasm hit Remy through their shared (empathic) link and the Cajun shuddered helplessly when wave after wave of pleasure shot though his body.

He collapsed against Logan completely spent and happy as never before.

He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he linked to Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.

He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he sent his feelings through his link into Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.

The last thing he remembered was warmth that engulfed him completely – mind and body, Logan holding him close.

THE END.


End file.
